


Eye (The Smashing Pumpkins)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [26]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Analingus, Bacon Sandwiches-Freeform, Barebacking, Boys Kissing, Castiel Gives Oral Sex, Castiel is a Sex God, Coming Untouched, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hickeys, Homina Homina, Multi, Nudity, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Snowballing, Threesome - M/M/M, referenced suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: Sequel to 'When the Levee Breaks'Sam and Cas try to convince Dean to stay with them





	Eye (The Smashing Pumpkins)

**Author's Note:**

> I know I promised this for the 31st, but my computer decided to take a shit for New Year's, so editing took awhile.  
> And I know I said this would be the conclusion, but there's just one more chapter I want to write for the Playlist.  
> The Underage tag is for a brief mention of Sam's and Dean's mutual masturbation sessions.

Eye (The Smashing Pumpkins)

            “Cas, _please,_ ” Sam whispers, not for the first time.

 

            “Clothing is irrelevant at this point, Sam,” Cas responds, as he has the last three times, with what most would see as detachment, but Sam _knows_ Castiel, as a friend as well as in the Biblical sense, and he sees it for what it is: patience.  Cas is _handling_ him, which should piss Sam off to no end, but it’s oddly endearing, and Sam needs any little bit of affection and caring he can get, _especially_ from Cas.  It would be better coming from Dean right now, but Dean is…Dean is, frankly, completely fixated on dying.  A condition Sam is _trying_ to remedy, if he could get the angel to put on some _damn_ clothes.  But, from Cas’ jutting chin and narrowed eyes, this is not a battle Sam is going to win anytime soon.  So, fuck it.

 

            Cas’ eyes go minutely wider as Sam strips and he takes it as a win.  He truly did not think anything could shock the angel, not at this point, but it feels good that he has at least some small advantage on an all-but immortal, millennia-old, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent.  Sam does his best to smirk at Cas as he throws his shirt down to join its fellows outside the iron door to the demon room.  “Shall we?” he asks pleasantly, right hand out in invitation. 

 

            Cas takes his hand and Sam tries not to think about the delightful way it makes something warm in his chest.  For so long, he’d sat on the outside of Dean and Castiel, a spectator too highly invested in both teams to be amused by their dance.  He had alternated between hating Castiel for the whole ‘profound bond’ attitude, like Sam was just so much baggage he had to lug to stay close to Dean; and hating Dean for not appreciating or even recognizing the utter devotion that clearly radiated from a real-life angel for his pathetic little human self.  Wanting Castiel had not come as naturally to Sam as wanting Dean, but it had snuck up on him, nonetheless, and their revelatory fuck fest yesterday had only validated every unattainable hope that had ever ignited in Sam’s wildest dreams.  Now, if they could only make Dean see that yesterday had been the single greatest experience in their entire existence, maybe they could move forward as the cohesive unit they had always claimed to be; Team Free Will or bust.

 

            Dean is back in the chair, but it was unavoidable.  The warding would have no effect on him any longer, but the intricately knotted restraints Castiel had fashioned would.  He lifts his head as Cas and Sam come into the room, but immediately averts his eyes with a gasped ‘Jesus fucking Christ’.  Sam looks down at Castiel and the angel nods, his face stoic but soft, somehow, like he doesn’t want Dean to feel threatened in any way.  Maybe that was the point of the nudity, so they’re all on equal footing, Sam thinks.  Castiel drops his hand and grabs one of the two metal chairs he’d brought in before he tied Dean up down here.  Sam grabs the other and they set them down in front of Dean.  Sam tries to sit modestly, folding his hands over his junk discreetly, because he understands Dean a bit better and can see how profoundly uncomfortable his brother is with the two men he thinks he assaulted sitting bare-assed on a couple of minimally-padded metal chairs while he is tied to what is, in essence, a wooden torture device.  Cas sits broadly, legs spread, hands resting lightly on his knees, cock and balls brushing the horrible teal pleather of his seat.  Sam is more than a little impressed with his aplomb.

 

            Sam can see the bolt of Dean’s jaw clenching, his throat bobbing as he works to get himself under control, but he doesn’t want to give Dean time to formulate any more well-reasoned arguments for his own demise.  They’d already tried logic, now was the time for catching Dean off-kilter with the one area in which he will never be adept at prevailing: emotion. 

 

            “Hello, Dean,” Cas begins, in a mild tone, almost identical to the tone he’d used earlier that day, when he had woken Sam with soft brushes of his elegant fingers through Sam’s long hair where it spread across the pillow on Dean’s bed.  Sam had virtually collapsed in the angel’s arms after they’d secured Dean last night, to keep him from offing himself or just plain taking off in the wake of being cured of The Mark.  Cas had held Sam’s much bigger body up under the spray of the shower with one arm while he washed them both as best he could.  He probably could have cleaned them all off with his Grace, as he had cleaned Dean, but Sam suspected his levels were much lower than he let on, so a hot shower it was.  Sam had dried sluggishly and let Castiel lead him to Dean’s room in an exhausted haze.  The last thing he remembers before sinking into the inky depths of sleep had been Castiel curling his sleekly muscled body around Sam’s back, his legs tucking up behind Sam’s knees, his left arm curving up to place his hand over Sam’s heart.

 

            “Heya, Cas, Sam,” Dean tells the wall, his voice cracking a bit on his brother’s name.  “I, um…so, why…oh, fuck, what the hell, guys?!  Why are you, um, naked?”

 

            “That is not of import,” Castiel says dismissively.

 

            Dean’s head whips around to glare at Cas, “It’s very freakin’ important!”

 

            “Why?” Cas asks with his usual head tilt, as if Sam hadn’t already told him why this was a bad idea.

 

            “B-because, ya know,” Dean moves his head in an awkward, stuttered circle.  Cas simply squints his eyes and, yeah, Sam’s not catching that one either.  Dean rolls his eyes and huffs.  “Because of yesterday, okay?”

 

            “ _Yesterday_ is why it’s okay to be naked,” Sam’s trying for calm and reassuring, but his frustration with Dean’s continued recalcitrance and his fear that Dean wants it all to _not be true_ is leaking through.

 

            Dean won’t even acknowledge Sam, hasn’t so much as glanced at his feet since he came in the room.  Safer to look at Cas, safer to _want_ Cas.  “Dean, will you please look at me?” Sam asks in a small voice, the echo of Dean demanding ‘look at me’ as he pounded into Sam sending a pleasant chill down Sam’s spine.

 

            “ _Sam_ ,” Dean grits out in warning.

 

            Sam’s ready for another track, “Well, _I_ like looking at _you_ naked.” Dean turns his scowl on Sam before his eyes skitter away.

 

            Luckily, Cas picks up on what Sam is laying down, “He does have a magnificent body.”

 

            “And he doesn’t even work for it!  He just…he was just _born_ beautiful.”

 

            “All those freckles,” Cas sighs dreamily, “I want to lick every single one, chart the constellations they make on his skin.”

 

            Sam looks over at Cas, surprised, “That was lovely, Cas.”

 

            “Thank you, Sam,” Cas smiles gummily back at him, “You are also an incredibly good-looking man.  I especially love your chest.  And your hair, so soft.”

 

            “Well, your eyes are incredible.  And I really liked the way you blushed when I flicked my tongue across the slit of your cock.  I don’t know how you can be so sweet and so sexy at the same-“

 

            “ _Fucking stop!_ ” Dean hisses.

 

            “But Dean,” Sam continues, kind of into this now.  It’s strangely liberating to be able to openly praise the man he’s loved his whole life, and achingly erotic.  “that little smirky, half-smile thing he does when he knows he has you right there on the edge?  Total killer, absolute orgasm trigger for me.”

 

            “The things he can do with that mouth just…and his eyes, when they’re all watery from choking on a cock?  Like clear lake water on a sunny day, little flecks of gold swimming in their depths, truly one of my-“

 

            “ _Please,_ ” Dean begs, his face and neck gone a bright crimson, “please stop.”  He sounds miserable, but his dick is telling another story, half-chub tending towards ¾ mast.  Sam’s in worse shape, his dick ticking up to his stomach already.  Cas is leaking like a faucet, legs still spread, completely unashamed.

 

            “Dean, do we sound,” Sam looks down pointedly at where Cas is leaving a puddle on the chair, “or look like we have a single problem with what happened yesterday?” Sam asks baldly.

 

            “It wasn’t real,” Dean asserts.  Sam starts to ask what that means, but Dean cuts him off at the pass, “I _mean,_ I forced you.  I forced both of you!  You didn’t really want it, want me.”  Dean hangs his head.

 

            “Neither of us did anything we haven’t wanted to do for years, but you know that already,” Cas says softly.  Dean looks back at him petulantly.  “We all know you could read our minds yesterday, so you were fully aware that we both wanted you.  Obviously,” Cas indicates their boners, so suave, “we still do.”

 

            “Whatever you think you did to us, Dean,” Sam cuts in, “it wasn’t like that from our side.  I mean, there was a certain amount of…dread, on my part going in,” Dean’s face falls, “but once I gave in to all the things I always wanted from you, once I stopped fighting it?” And here, words kind of fail Sam, for the first time in his life, because there is no way to adequately describe the relief, the release of finally cutting the ties to all that abysmal guilt and self-loathing, from what he thought was one-sided and defective down to his core.  He almost wishes Dean could still read his mind, so he could see what Sam’s trying to tell him.  “Once I accepted that you and Cas wanted me just the same, I just…” Sam looks helplessly over at Cas.

 

            Cas stares hard at Dean, then reaches out tentatively to touch a forefinger lightly to Dean’s forehead.  Dean gasps, his body going rigid, trembling slightly then slumping a bit in the chair, his eyes still wide open as tears start to trickle down his cheeks.  Cas sits back, watching Dean recover.  Dean pulls great heaving breathes into his lungs, choking a little on the exhale, until his eyes meet Sam’s.  A broken sob escapes him as he whimpers, “ _Sammy_.”

 

            “I can’t go back, Dean!  I can’t lose this, lose _you_! Please don’t make me!” Sam pleads.

 

            “No, no, baby boy,” Dean starts yanking at the ropes holding him to the chair, “I won’t, I swear! Oh, please…fuck, Cas, please, just let me…”  Cas is out of his chair and behind Dean in seconds, loosening the knots he’d tied last night.  Dean’s arms come loose, rope still dangling from his wrists and he’s up and lunging for Sam in a heartbeat, straddling his long legs and wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders.  Sam had a split second to wonder what Cas had shown his brother to illicit this reaction, and then Cas is behind Dean, snugging onto Sam’s lap to wrap his arms around Dean’s chest.  Dean turns his head to capture Cas’ mouth in an awkward but sweet kiss, his right hand petting Cas’ stubbly cheek even as he cards his fingers into Sam’s nape.  Sam tries to get his arms around his brother and their angel and mostly succeeds.  Until Dean’s stomach rumbles long and loud.

 

            Sam lets his head fall back as he chuckles, Dean giggling into his neck.  Cas just grumbles and tried to burrow tighter into Dean’s back.  “Come on, you guys are heavy, anyway.  Get up,” Sam laughs, shoving at Dean’s chest lightly.  Cas growls but moves off, still clinging to Dean as they stand.

 

            “Alright, spider monkey, you asked for it, now ya gotta pay the piper,” Dean smiles, prying Castiel from his back.  Cas scowls at him until Dean takes his hand and laces their fingers together, “Come on, you can pay me in bacon sandwiches,” and starts to pull Cas from the room. 

 

            “Now we have to put clothes on, Cas,” Sam says.  Cas glowers back at him.

 

            “Just you, Sam.  You’re gonna be cooking the bacon, after all,” Dean calls as they tromp up the stairs.

 

            “No way! I cooked you three pounds of bacon last time, jerk!” Sam calls back.

 

            “And you’ll cook four, _this_ time, bitch!” 

 

 

 

            Dinner devolved somewhat at one point, as Dean paused in his attempted demolition of the tall plate of sandwiches they had assembled (bacon sandwiches don’t _need_ any leaves on ‘em! They aren’t _leaves_ , Dean, it’s _lettuce_ ) to confess what else he had done as a demon.  Castiel crawled into his lap and shushed him with kisses and reassurances, reminding him of all the horrible shit they had each done.  Every time any of them thought they had committed unforgiveable atrocities, they always found a way to forgive and come together again.  Sam ate two whole sandwiches while he watched Dean and Cas make out sweetly, until Dean glared at him over Cas’ shoulder and snatched the last sandwich off the plate.  He ate it quickly as Cas sucked hickeys into his chest, trying not to drop crumbs in the angel’s hair (classy, Dean. hey, no one asked you, sandwich thief!).

 

            Somehow, they make it Sam’s room relatively unscathed, although Dean had jumped on Sam’s back in the war room and demanded a ride the rest of the way, making Sam and Cas bump noses painfully as Sam walked Cas backwards, kissing him, Cas tugging insistently at his t shirt.  Dean rounds the freshly changed bed to dig around in Sam’s nightstand for the lube, or what remains of it, as Sam picks Cas up by grabbing the backs of his thick thighs and letting Cas jump up, wrapping his arms and legs around Sam.  “Spider monkey,” Sam murmurs against Cas’ mouth before delving deep inside with his tongue.  Cas responds by enthusiastically humping his hard cock into Sam’s bare stomach.

 

            Dean tosses the lube on the bed and shucks the sweatpants he insisted on wearing to eat because the kitchen chairs were ‘cold as Rudolph’s balls, Sam’, “Put him on the bed,” he tells Sam.  Sam opens his eyes to see Cas’ gone comically wide and he grins stupidly into the kiss. 

 

            Sam drops Cas on the bed only about half as roughly as he could have, and Cas bounces a little, legs spread, cock hard, as he laughs lightly.  Dean comes up behind Sam, right hand popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down while his left runs up and down Sam’s broad back, admiring the twitch and shift of muscles under smooth skin.  Dean extricates Sam’s dick gently as he shoves on the back of the jeans to get them out of the way.  He strokes Sam and wraps his other hand around his brother’s tiny waist, pushing his hips up and forward to tuck his dick between Sam’s thighs.  He doesn’t plan to get off like this, but it must paint a pretty picture if Cas’ pained groan is anything to go by.  “Get on up,” Dean says cheerily, landing a solid smack to Sam’s taunt ass, the most athletic ass amongst the three of them, firm and tight.  Cas’ is soft and beautifully bouncy, just the prettiest little bubble butt.  Dean has no idea about his own, but he’d guess it’s somewhere between the two.

 

            “How do you want us?” Sam asks cheekily, lying next to Cas and watching the angel play with his foreskin, his cockhead shiny with precum and pink as bubble gum.  Dean used to be so jealous of Sam still having his when they used to jerk it to bad motel porn together as teenagers, fascinated by the way the head slid in and out, wanting nothing more than to run his tongue under the edge to taste his little brother.  A flush of fresh shame heats up his neck thinking about how much he’d wanted Sam like this, even when he was a skinny 14-year old.  It always made him feel so sick and wrong but got him so hard, too.  It was completely confusing, just as much now as then.  Only now, he knows Sam felt the same way and that makes it a little better, maybe more than a little.  Cas groans and shoots Dean a good imitation of Sam’s bitch face, like Dean’s lingering shame actually hurts him.

 

            “Yes, Dean, how would you like us?” Cas’ voice jolts him back to the reality where he’s standing at the foot of his brother’s bed, dick hard and leaking, watching an angel jack his brother’s big dick, tongue darting out to lick the drops of moisture as they collect in the slit.

 

 About a thousand positions spin through Dean’s head at that question, finally landing on a winner, something he remembers offering yesterday but never got around to doing.  “Cas, on your knees, Sammy, get ‘im ready.”  Dean doesn’t think it very appropriate for an adult man to act like an overgrown puppy at the prospect of eating an angel’s asshole, but there it was.  Dean smiles affectionately as he ruffles Sam’s hair on his way up the bed.  He sits with his back against the headboard, legs spread wide and beckons for Cas to bend over him.  Cas comes willingly, hands braced on Dean’s shoulders.  Dean cups his angel’s sweet face and goes to work kissing him breathless while Sam gets to work on the other end, their innate ability to play off each other, that graceful push-pull dynamic they’ve always has in full force.  Cas gasps and groans between them, occasionally rolling his hips back into Sam or surging forward into Dean. He bites down on Dean’s bottom lip when Sam starts adding his slender fingers and Dean nips back, making Cas push back onto two fingers eagerly.  Dean isn’t getting attention on his dick in this position, but that was okay, for now.  The random brushes of Cas’ cock rubbing along the sensitive skin of his own is enough to keep his fire stoked.  Long make out sessions always helped center his mind.  Without it, he doubted he’d last more than three seconds once they got to the next part.  Sam moans from behind Cas and peeks over his back at Dean.

 

“I’m four in, we good?”

 

Dean looks into Cas’ eyes, shining Grace-blue deep within, just the barest spark, “Yup,” he answers simply, kissing Cas one more time before pushing him up and getting on his own knees.  Sam pulls the angels hips back and down, effectively folding him into a loose ball, his ass resting lightly on the insides of his heels.  Dean watches Sam position Cas, his mouth quirked in interest, not exactly how he’d pictured but this would probably be easier for Cas.  Dean sits down lower himself, spreading his knees wide so his dick is pointing straight at Cas’ face.  With one hand, Dean tilts the angel’s face up, so he can watch his eyes, waiting to see when Sam starts in on that ass, the other guides his cock as he paints Cas’ swollen lips with pre-release.  Cas chases Dean’s dick with his tongue.  Dean smiles and plays keep-away, letting Cas get just a taste every third pass or so.  “Ready when you are, Sammy.”

 

Dean looks up to see Sam’s hips already flush with Cas’ ass, head thrown back.  Sam looks back down at Dean and smiles wide, “Already ahead of you, De.”

 

Dean looks back down at Cas’ face, the angel cocking an eyebrow at him. “You little shit,” Dean mutters good-naturedly as he pushes his dick between Cas’ sticky lips and watches him slowly suck Dean down, eyes rolling back in his head, cockiness dissipated as he’s filled from both ends.  The way Sam’s mounted him, he can easily lean over as Dean leans slightly forward, the two meeting naturally over Cas’ back to slide their mouths together.  The earthy tang on Sam’s lips mixes well with the ozone-and-honey sweetness on Dean’s and Sam groans at the combination.

 

“Jesus, Sammy, how’s that feel, huh?”  Sam just grunts in answer.  Dean’s the talker, but Sam definitely enjoys listening, “Cas…fuck, baby…your mouth, am I right, Sam? Could fuck this mouth every day, so hot…mmm…yeah, all the way down, fuck!”  Dean holds Cas’ jaw with his left hand, fingers brushing his throat to feel himself pushing through the skin there, his right is buried in Cas’ thick hair, twisting it in his grip and pushing the angel’s head down.  “Fuck, yeah…ah…ah…Give it to ‘im, Sammy, fuck his tight ass…”  Cas’ stifled grunts and groans reverberate up his dick in a shower of effervescent tingles.  “Goddamn it, Cas…take that huge cock of Sammy’s so fucking good…come ‘ere, Sammy…” Dean releases Cas’ jaw in favor of the back of Sam’s neck, grinding their mouths together, tongue mapping the heretofore unknown territory of the back of his little brother’s mouth.  Sam is breathing harshly out his nose and starts slamming into Cas even harder, a low growl building deep in his chest.

 

Sam pulls back from their kiss, “ _Fuck…fuck!_  Cas…ungh!” Hips jackhammering into Cas’ plush ass, Sam’s thumbs dig bruises into his hips and Sam hopes like hell Cas doesn’t let them heal for a good long while.

 

“Fuck, Sam…no hurry, baby boy…slow it down…yeah, Cas…now the teeth, baby…ahhh, fuck like that…there…just there…ah…ah…ah,” Dean fucks into Cas’ slick mouth and bends over, covering Sam’s hands with his own.  Sam looks down at him, eyes wild and showing too much white, like a panicked horse.

 

“Can’t…fuck, De…I can’t…ungh, fuck…”  Sam grits his teeth and growls and loses control, ramming into Cas with abandon and very little rhythm.  Dean thinks it’s a good thing Cas doesn’t need to breathe because Sam isn’t letting him move an inch, his big body dominating the smaller man in a spectacularly primal display.  Dean’s breath is ripped out of him as his own orgasm crashes into him at seeing Sam so crazed.

 

Dean grunts in surprise as he fills Cas’ throat, seismic waves of bliss rocking him in short thrusts of his hips, Cas groaning along his length.  Cas pushes Dean back on his ass and he squawks, back hitting the headboard as Cas rises up like a miracle without dislodging Sam where he’s still pummeling away in an impressive show of abdominal strength.  Castiel curves back, turning his upper body and snowballing Dean’s load into Sam’s mouth.  If he hadn’t just come so explosively, this would have done it.  As it is, Dean’s dick gives an excited little twitch but fails to thicken again.  Sam howls into Cas’ mouth, shuddering and clasping Cas to his chest just as Cas’ dick gives a heave and jettisons thick blurts of come far enough to strike Dean’s legs.

 

Cas turns back to Dean, chest bright red, hair a total wreck and smiles, his chin covered in Dean’s come and Sam’s spit.  Sam has his head buried in Cas’ back and continues to shake, groaning out, “ _Fuck…Cas…De…oh, fu-u-u-u-ck…_ ”

 

“Is he still…?” Dean asks Cas, who just nods, still caught in Sam’s straining arms.  Dean thinks he’s never seen anything so spectacularly perfect in his whole life.  Sam finally thrusts a few more times and rattles with a full body shiver, releasing Cas who falls into Dean’s lap.  Sam falls like a felled tree, catty-corner across Cas’ legs.  Dean laughs down at Cas, who has rolled over enough to look back up at him with a satiated smirk, “You think you’re pretty clever, don’tcha?”

 

“I think I’m adorable,” Cas answers smugly, rubbing his rough cheek against Dean’s sensitive inner thigh.  Sam claws his way up the bed, collapsing once he lands face-down in a pillow

 

            “Hey! Are you rubbin’ come on me?” Dean asks, startled. Cas just chuckles, the vibrations from his chest rippling across Dean’s legs. “Gross, man, come ‘ere.” Dean hauls Cas up by his armpits, holding him at arms’ length, “Angel, you are a _mess_ ,” Dean laughs.

 

“Sam is starting to leak out, too, I believe,” Cas grins dopily.

 

“Yup,” Dean pushes Cas off him and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, dragging Cas’ listless body with him, “Shower time, Sammy.”

 

Sam just grunts and mumbles what sounds like ‘fuckin’ demolished’ into the pillow.  “Oooohhh-kay, but don’t come bitching to me when you’re stuck to the bed tomorrow,” Dean throws back on his way out the room.  Sam flips him the bird and promptly falls asleep.    

**Author's Note:**

> Sexual thoughts or behaviors towards a minor are NEVER okay.  
> These characters and situations are entirely fictional and do not reflect any approval of child abuse.


End file.
